Pandora is a half-demon, alone in the world and good as abandoned, with a mother who barely tolerates her and a father who is unable to be with her nearly often enough for her tastes. She keeps to herself, and tries not to associate with others often, lest they discover her secret—until she meets Kevlar Cornwall. The two collide in ignorance of one another, but the sexual-attraction is indisputable and cannot be ignored, growing more profound with every passing moment. It blinds them to the lurking danger hiding just around the corner, out to end both their lives and everyone either of them have ever known or loved.

Excerpt One (RATED: PG)

Prologue

There are many types of people in this world.

And I have no idea what type I would be classified under. I walk through life always unsure of my next move and how it would affect others. Because everything I did rippled outward and long ago realized I had to limit my association with the “outside world”, relying on no one but myself.

I couldn’t rely on my family, friends or enemies for guidance of any sort; forever alone and doomed to always be. Such was the case with my kind—though I wouldn’t know, since I didn’t associate with them either.

What am I? A demon.

Hell, I couldn’t even fit into that category. I was half-mortal, a thing cursed to be complicated and dangerous—even to myself. I couldn’t do normal things, normal people did, mostly since all it would take is one wrong word or action, and all of a sudden I would turn into a monster that made everybody else quake in fear. A Frankenstein, but of a different sort.

And I was the only one on earth.

I had a human mother who hated me, and a demon father who I rarely saw or talked to. Creatures of the lower realms weren’t allowed on this plane without a direct access pass. And even then, it was sketchy.

So what was life like for me? Shit. Absolute uselessness.

You’d think it would be enough to drive a person just a little batty. But no. There’s more.

I was an author by profession. I had an agent, an excellent career—or I’d had anyways. It isn’t as good as it sounds.

Within the past few days, I’d realized my chosen path in life wasn’t as great as I’d cracked it up to be. My agent, Sam, proved to be ripping me off; stealing my work right from under my nose.

The most important book of my existent too boot. Well, to me anyway. The novel would be published, but it sure as fuck wasn’t by me. Sam Poetize was an underhanded slime-ball who had worked on my behalf since the beginning of my writing days. He made me believe in him for believing in me. But that came to an end.

Trusting him was one of the biggest mistakes I could’ve made.

One of; but definitely not the worst.

Oh no, that would be reserved for the day I’d been born, if you asked my mother, Lillian.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling while I thought of this, when the radio came on instead of an alarm clock, at exactly six-forty am. Loud noises hurt my overly sensitive ears.

Nickelback’s Burn It To The Ground blared through the speaker.

When it ended, one of the disk-jockeys of the Jeff O-Neil Morning Show, Charis’ voice filled the room. The program was a favourite of mine with their causal banter and favoured rock; but not the deep concern that weighed her careful words.

“It continued last night,” Charis began. “The murder count is now up to ten.”

“Ten?” Jeff repeated.

“The police are cautioning the people of Vancouver to be on the look out, and to report anything suspicious.”

“What did they find this time?” Scotty inquired.

“The witnesses on scene were reported saying a severed arm was found in one part of an alley, and a leg on the other side of Hornby Street. No weapon was found or determined.”

I sat up in bed, listening closely. I lived only a few blocks from there.

This would cause hysteria. Pandemonium. Something deep inside stirred at the thought of so many terrified people. I shivered, and then thrust aside the part of me that relished the distinct possibility. My human part was appalled, and since I resided on earth and not—well not on earth, that would be the emotion I stuck with.

I’d seen this as nothing more than a serial killer the news named him—or her.

Yet these murders held a far greater meaning in relation to me, and the lives surrounding mine. I just didn’t know it then.

Perhaps if I’d been more cautious and aware of my surroundings, the signs of my own demise would have shown themselves to me before it was too late.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Facebook is a place many of us go for different reasons. Some people go to see posts from their friends and families. Some use Facebook for business, and for pleasure. Many authors build their promotional efforts through Facebook, posting bits about themselves, their books and how they feel. Some of us are role players, who reenact their favorite characters from wonderfully detailed series that so many of us know and love.

The efforts made by these people keep us in the know of their lives and/or the fictional world many admire and follow until its very last “page,” if you will. But what happens when all of that crumbles around one of those people who work hard to build what they have, harming no one to do it?

A lot.

Today, I watched friends, real friends, band together to bring heartfelt and tireless efforts back into being, for one author. She is an excellent author, one who is kind and caring. She puts blood, sweat and tears into her work in all of her many accomplishments. Someone decided to take her account away, everything she had worked toward. And for what purpose? That, I couldn’t tell you. I have no idea why people do what they do, and those who really know me, can tell you I don’t understand most people, and don’t really care to if this is the reoccurring example.

But even the worst attacker can never realize the power of friendship. Within hours, this author has started to rebuild, because no one, not even a malicious entity can bring down someone for long. Nor will her real friends ever allow that to happen.

And what annoys me the most, is this isn’t the first, nor last time I have seen this happen to people who do not deserve this kind of treatment from anyone. Friends and people I follow on Facebook are constantly losing their accounts, because someone out there deemed it necessary to report them or go another avenue, for a variety of reasons.

I am tired of watching people I care about lose their efforts because of catty or jealous people, or whatever else is in their heads at the time. You know what, it’s time for everyone to suck it up and GROW UP. We aren’t in high school anymore. If someone offended you because of something you read when they were talking to someone else, or you saw a picture you didn’t like, unfriend and block them. It’s not hard. You can find the option at every profile on your friends list, bottom left, next to the report button that should not be used unless it is actually necessary, certainly not on a whim. If you’re a hacker, trying to steal something that isn’t yours, well my advice for you is, go back to grade school. They teach you stealing is wrong. You’ll find that lesson between sharing with other people, and how to be a grown up.

Kayden, who isn’t impressed with her friends being constantly deleted and not being able to find my lighter, McLeod

Saturday, January 22, 2011

The LRC voting for the Best of 2010 has begun! I'm up for Best Paranormal Author of 2010, and Deadly Fetishes is up for Best Vampire Book and Best Paranormal Book of 2010! As well, my publisher, Silver Publishing is up for the Best of 2010!

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

I am thrilled to announce some wonderful news. The Love Romances And More Cafe made their nominee announcements today for their best of 2010! And I am in three categories.

Deadly Fetishes was nominated under two:

Best Vampire Book of 2010

Best Paranormal/Urban Fantasy of 2010

And I was nominated for Best Paranormal Author of 2010

Voting doesn't start until tomorrow, and the rules will be given then, which I will pass onto you. There are so many wonderful authors in every category. I am also excited for my publisher, Silver Publishing, who was nominated Best E-Publisher of 2010 :)

Monday, January 17, 2011

Long-term relationships are like roller coasters. Though the first plunge is usually the biggest, as the ride evolves there are lots of peaks and valleys that bring back that lovin' feeling—your first fight, the day you making that lasting commitment, break-ups/make-ups, screw-ups (both big and small). In fact, it seems like the times of high-drama (be they filled with happiness or heartbreak) make it easy to stay focused on your partner. And then there are those days...months...even years that slip by without excitement, intrigue, or turmoil. That's when the ennui sets in and, IMHO, it's these times that are difficult to weather and most often lead to an irreparable rift.

If you have the choice between making love with your partner or watching an rerun of Law and Order and you choose Law and Order—DANGER, DANGER! LOL. You need to take action now! And I would know because not too long ago, my life-partner and I fell into a rut that almost put an end to our relationship. Almost. Thankfully we were able to open up to each other, indulge each other's fantasies, experiment a little...okay experiment a lot and we resurrected our passion with a vengeance. It's this experience that was the basis for my novel Love Game, available now at Ellora's Cave.

The book explores the staid relationship of a couple that's been married for longer than a decade and the lengths that they go to fall in lust with each other all over again:

Battling housework, Sandi wonders if the spark in her marriage has disappeared. When her husband interrupts their hot-shower lovin’ to take a call from work, she’s positive the magic is gone.

In an attempt to spice things up, she gets a makeover and sets a date with her hubby for a night of passion and romance. There’s only one problem—Roberto doesn’t show. But all is not lost. Alejandro, a silver-tongued Latin loverboy wrapped in an expensive suit, volunteers to keep her company for the evening. He says all the right—and deliciously wrong—things, leaving Sandi no choice but to see him again…and again and again.

One by one, Alejandro strips away her inhibitions, pushing her to act out her darkest fantasies, desires so private, she’s never mentioned them to anyone, not even her husband. Blindfolds, bondage with silk ropes, sex on the roof—nothing is off limits. But everything is not as it seems. The game’s afoot—a love game—rekindling the scorching-hot passion in Sandi and Roberto’s marriage.

I hope readers can identify with the ups and downs Sandi and Roberto go through. Yes, some nights you're tired. Some days you're grumpy or you really do have a headache. Not to mention the kids are doing their best to give you gray hair. But if you're reasonably well-rested, in decent health and you find yourself with some grown-up alone time, you can't go wrong by giving your partner some good, good lovin'. Mix it up. Keep it fresh. It's overcoming the boredom that comes with any routine that will take you on that roller-coaster ride again. Falling in love—or lust—again...ain't it grand?

I perched on the edge of his bed as he hung up his sports coat. He walked over and took a seat next to me. Fingertips skittering to the hemline of my dress, Alejandro said, “Now, what about those panties I’ve heard so much about.”

“Not yet.” I pushed his hand away.

He pouted, sliding off the bed onto his knees. “You want me to beg you?”

Peering down at him, I put a finger to his lips. With a swipe of his tongue, he licked the skin between my thumb and forefinger. I laughed and gave him a gentle shove. His gaze boring a hole in me, he lunged and took me down onto the mattress.

I worked the buttons on his shirt and he sloughed off the garment. For a moment, I stared up at him and the gorgeous expanse of his unblemished chest. He nuzzled my jawline and moved his lips past my ear.

“Let me see you.”

At first, I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to do, but when he moved off me and propped himself up with pillows, arms folded over his torso, I realized he expected a show.

“I was promised sexy underwear.” He motioned with his hand as if to say the floor was all mine.

Taking a deep breath, I decided I could do this. In fact, it might be fun. I crawled off the end of the bed, kicking off my heels.

“Leave the shoes on.”

A mocking expression on my face, I stepped into the stilettos again and propped one leg on the bed, pulling up the skirt of my dress to give him a peek of the red lace beneath. A wicked grin parted his lips.

I unzipped my dress and slipped it down around my waist. Immediately, he focused on the plump mounds of cleavage formed by the cups of the camisole and he swallowed hard. The power I had over him went to my head and I grew bolder. I let the dress flutter to the ground and stepped out of it. Doing my best supermodel strut, I walked to the side of the bed. Knees together, I dropped low, licking my forefinger and running it between my breasts. For just a second, I spread my legs, giving him another peek at the panties and then promptly closed my thighs. A low growl rumbled in his throat.

I stood, hands on my hips, and swiveled to display the bow at the cleft of my backside, looking over my shoulder to watch his reaction. He clambered off the bed and caught me around the waist. For all his talk about wanting to see the lingerie, he stripped it off me and threw it to the floor.

The Foxworth family has blazed a trail through human and vampire history alike, changing the ways of both races in Canada for all time. The Council has demanded a full report for the long and twisted tale of how the Surrey Coven had come to be the most powerful and feared; an assemblage that anyone would question before coming up against.

The Leader of the Surrey Coven, Canya recalls how her family came to be. A story filled with pain and heartache, until she meets Gregory Foxworth: a debonair CEO to the family shipping company. Gregory remembers taking her away from a life that shocks him, hoping to shelter and love her. But little does he know all he has done, was make her a target for a sadistically warped man. One who will have her and his own personal brand of vengeance. Sometimes, a grudge is forever.

Excerpt One (Rated PG):

Prelude

Canya

Surrey, British Columbia, Canada

June 32010

The sky was overcast, grey and temperamental, much like my mood. The ocean was the flat colour of slate, reflecting the drab clouds above, while the waves lapped at the long expanse of sand making up the beach.

I loved my house in White Rock, a nice city in British Columbia within the Fraser Valley. It was our main residence, but we owned a lot of property all over the territory that was ours to tend.

I sat outside, on my patio with expensive white paper and a pen, with Gregory at my side. His hand was on my shoulder in a show of support, a silent partner, until it was his turn to write his account. The beginning, where we started, was my words. But I wasn’t sure where to begin. When a story went on for decades, where does one start?

I thought of my family to give me strength.

The Foxworths had grown and changed so much in the last century. They too were asked to tell their parts of the tale, but they’d decided that it was when I discovered the new world, remaining even now in shadows that this story should begin.

It was almost a century to the day, when we finally ended what plagued my family for so long. Was a hundred years too long to hold on to hope that your loved ones would eventually survive and thrive, even if some had to die in seeing it happen?

The Council, our governing body, paid me a personal visit yesterday. Though it had been an official visit, I didn’t have a great track record with those appointments. I was respected, but all in my Coven were also feared for their individual reasons, their individual pasts.

Over the years, our Coven had been allied with some of the most powerful entities this world would ever know. We have the forces of nature on our side, the power of dreams and the most feared monsters that make humans run and hide under their beds.

The Council only “requested” this document, because it is unbelievable, as it sounds. I believed they wanted to watch us fail to give the facts; to prove beyond doubt that what we said was real.

And we do have proof of all of our accomplishments. But I still suspected they don’t believe some of what my family and friends claim. Even to us, who are vampires and know of all sorts of real magic, our story is very far-fetched. Our experiences rip apart our own beliefs, not just the human view-point, and then stitch them back together again. To know the real truth of what lays just out of even our sight.

For a race with our real origin of beginnings, you’d think that they’d believe our tall-tale.

Personally, I wouldn’t have ever chosen to put this to paper, but when the Council decrees something, you refuse or disobey at your own risk. So, I will do so for our own well-being, and finally admit what we really are.

Some think the Foxworths were lucky for our “good” fortune. Others consider it a curse on top of the Curse that all vampires already share. I didn’t know which side to follow in that.

As a race, we’re the damned that had at one point been blessed. We were the ultimate oxymoron and the personification, if you will.

Our kind has seen both sides of the balance, and now we were precariously hanging by our fingertips, trying to protect mankind from ourselves. Most of us moved steadily forward to evolve with everyone else, but outlawed Rogues kept trying to throw us back into the dark ages.

Even so, we would always stand between the evil that rears its head within us, and the good in everyone else. Though we cannot protect humankind from their own forms of evil, we could do our part to keep the harmony on our end.

That was the Foxworth Coven’s mission statement.

We lived with humans, not just among them. We tried not to abuse our power, and assimilate into humanity the best we could. We raise our children with those beliefs, in hopes that one day we’d have real freedom and understanding. It was only one small step in the face of many, and so far, our ways had set the standard for Canadian ways.

We must be doing something right.

Possibly this record of our family would convince a few more of our kind that just because we are at the top of the food chain, manned with more power then any being had a right to, didn’t mean vampires had the right to abuse it.

Maybe it will show that no matter how bad life appears at the time, hope is always at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes it will just take a little time to get there.

I knew this better than most. In the end, I knew just how lucky I’d been.

As a child, I’d known real love existed out there—somewhere. But my parents had never been examples of that. They’d almost hated each other, and liked me even less. It was a match for necessity and nothing more.

Years ago, my cousin had told me, I’d been born to be a servant. Since the time I had been old enough to clean and mind the cattle, it’d been my life. Being taught to cook simple meals before turning the age of ten, I was expected to serve them nightly.

Under my mother’s watchful eye, I grew up alone and afraid. My father had been a big, burly man who was far too gruff to ever have children. I believe he had me, only because it had been expected of him. After me, they’d never tried for a boy. Something that enraged my father and something I had to suffer for continuously.

But it isn’t my childhood hell that begun my long journey, nor my terrifying family legacy. For generations my human family possessed magical gifts, but these required us to keep them quiet for our own survival. The differences between those who are gifted and those who did not understand them were vast in the early twentieth century, more so than they had in the nineteenth.

As a teenager I’d been starved for love and affection, something that all of my friends had received and gave so easily. I’d searched far and wide for it, a way to leave my past behind me. To finally get out from under my parent’s thumb or I would surely go mad.

They didn’t want me to go. They’d made no move to marry me off. I still believed that if the occurring events of my early life hadn’t taken place, they would’ve found a way to keep me tied to them forever.

Near the age of twenty, I was practically an old maid when I’d met Thomas. For months we had come together in secret. I’d thought nothing of it. Those were the times then. Plus, I didn’t want my parents to know, until it was too late to stop me.

I went to Thomas willingly, time after time, needing to feel human and liked. So much abuse from my parents made me desperate to jump into anything that would bring about my escape far too quickly. My normally intelligent mind hadn’t had the time to warn me of the impending dangers, in direct relation to the hard-pressed decisions.

I had mistaken lust for love, and that really had been my downfall, and breakthrough for survival.

If I hadn’t met Thomas, I doubted I would’ve met my true love.

Every cloud has a silver lining, even the darkest and most deadly ones.

Also, I'm working on some new WIP's that is paranormal erotic romance with a major undercurrent of horror. I am not sure which element will end up being the predominant factor. I find myself distracted as I think about the looming release date of Carnal Magnetism (next Saturday!). And of course, it doesn't help that I made a recent paranormal romance submission to one of my publishers, and I am eagerly awaiting to see what they think of it.

Kayden McLeod is a paranormal and fantasy author, who dreams big, and writes bigger. She gets her inspirations from all manners of life and events that surround her. She is best known for her paranormal books, the Coven Series. Now, she embarks on new adventures in the dark world of Shadowdyn, found in the pages of the Demon Queen Series. As well, she has started to write her first YA fantasy books under the name Kinsey Knight.

She is an award winning Cover and Graphic Artist, and the co-owner of Otherworlds Publicity. In the past, she's completed cover art for a variety of publishers, although her freelance makes up most of her portfolio.

She co-owns Siren Book Reviews, an inspiration Brigit Aine and herself dreamed up. A site devoted to reviewing qualityfiction, and creating a home dedicated to their reviewers.